The man seems vaguely aware of the coating of dust covering his three hundred dollar suit, and despite his pain he rolls his eyes, possibly at the prospect of another dry cleaning bill. Clenching a fist against the horrible pain in his chest, he grapples for his cell phone, only to cringe at the line of ants that has begun dancing around it. A rustle of dead leaves from under the lumber trucks behind him makes him turn his head, and his breath catches in his throat. In front of him is a miniscule..(we can't quite call it a man, as it seems to be an akward combination of skeleton and tree) creature, it's face a mask of dead animal skin stretched over antler-like branches. The..the thing sighs, and reaches out with an impossibly long hooklike (paw? hoof? hand?) and touches the man's chest.
The man jerks back in horror, and frantically starts to brush the dust off the arms of his jacket, but something is wrong. His suit crumbles at his touch, and the arm underneath it, until the man frantically erases himself, screaming as he falls into the earth beneath him.
"See" The creature croaks, picking up a small stone from the makeshift grave and placing it into a pocket underneath his fox-tail robes. "They cannot run from this forever."
The boy next to him, silent all the while, merely looks off into the city lights beyond and nods.